The Beginning of the End
by Venus-Diablo
Summary: Lucifer is risen and the end is nigh. That’s not a wacko with a sandwich board ‘end is nigh’, it’s a literal. The angels aren’t helping, The Devil wants them dead, and even Chucks prophecies are on the fritz. When all you have to rely on is each other.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I don't own them, I wish I did. All these folk belong to Kripke and co.

**Note:** Follows on immediately from where 4.22 left off.

**Summary:** Lucifer is risen and the end is nigh. That's not a wacko with a sandwich board 'end is nigh', it's a literal. The angels aren't helping, The Devil wants them dead, and even Chucks prophecies are on the fritz. When all you have to rely on is each other, bonds become deeper than you ever imagined.

Dean tugged at Sam's sleeve urgently, "Come on Sam we gotta go." His younger brother didn't move, seemingly frozen in place under a mix of shock, awe and shear unadulterated terror. "Sammy." Dean shouted, desperate to draw his attention. They didn't have time for this. They needed to get the hell away from there and put as much distance between them and the raw power rising before them as possible. Right now!

"Dean." Sam almost whispered his eyes widening. Following Sam's gaze Dean looked down at the body recently vacated by Ruby, courtesy of a little team work and her own knife. The dark hair and clothing of the deceased girl whipped frantically in a fierce wind only the edge of which Dean could feel whispering against his skin. The cold white light which moments ago had seemed to be rushing fiercely upwards now radiated around her, through her, becoming more concentrated as the noise around them increased and her fingers flexed slowly.

"Oh shit." Grasping his brothers' sleeve in his hand Dean pulled roughly. "Run!"

This time Sam listened, following Dean full sprint through the rapidly deteriorating convent. The building had not been in the best state of repair to begin with, abandoned as it was for so long, but the violent shaking caused but the opening of Lucifer's prison had made the already unstable structure into a gauntlet of falling ceilings, blown in windows and toppling statues. Chunks of plaster and fragments of stained glass tumbled down on them, as they barrelled past cracking walls and over fallen debris. The ground still shaking beneath them as they dodged and weaved their way through the seemingly endless corridors of what Sam could have sworn was a fairly small convent. The pounding of their feet drowned out by the continued rumbling still audible from the chapel that never seemed to sound any further away.

After a couple of minutes which felt more like an hour they turned a corner to find the convents main entrance before them, the doorway blocked by masonry and the fallen, full sized, stone angels that had flanked the archway. Cursing loudly Dean grabbed one end of the statue and tried to lift it with little success until Sam climbed over, bracing himself against the closed doors and pushing with his legs as Dean heaved the weight with his arms and the statue moved enough to swing the door inward slightly opening it just widely enough to squeeze through. Their muscles and lungs burned as they edged their way through the doors and into the cool night air before running flat out once more, not stopping until they reached Ruby's car.

"Keys?" Dean enquired, knowing it was hopeless even before Sam threw him a '_what the hell do you think?'_ look as he ran around to the passenger side door. Without as much as a pause Dean broke the driver's side window with his elbow. Putting his hand through the jagged hole in the glass he unlocked the door and climbed in. He had a feeling he would regret it later when the adrenalin wore off and the pain from the cuts kicked in, but for now he was too busy unlocking Sam's door and trying to hotwire the car with shaking fingers to notice the warm blood running down his arm and dripping onto his Jeans. The cars engine roared into life at the same moment as Sam closed his door and mere seconds later they were speeding away from the convent as though the devil himself were chasing them, which for all they knew he soon would be. In the rear view mirror Dean saw the light that had been streaming from the convent fade. Lucifer had risen.

By the time they hit the interstate it became apparent that they were not being followed and in the absence of anything to run from or fight the adrenaline coursing through Deans body morphed into rage. He felt every muscle in his body tense almost one by one and tried in vain to hold it all in, but it was too much and he snapped, punching at the steering wheel with a loud "Fuck!". Sam flinched a little beside him, but had the good sense to stay silent; even if he had wanted to speak he wouldn't know what to say.

Dean knew that he should be afraid, but he didn't seem to have it in him. All he could feel was anger and a deep sense of failure. He should have been able to stop it, he got there in time. Lilith had been alive, he had seen her. If that bitch Ruby hadn't closed the door on him. If Sam had just taken a second to listen past the voice in his mind, in his blood that called for vengeance and heard him shouting through the wood. Castiel had gotten him there in time, risked everything to do it and now... "Damn it!" He punched the steering wheel once more and pressed down on the accelerator. There was one more stop he had to make before he could even begin to think about what might come next.

He knew that it was bad the moment he turned onto Chuck's street, the fire trucks, police cars and ambulance were a dead giveaway. Pulling over as close to the police cordon as he could get, Dean climbed out of the car and pushed his way through the crowd of neighbours to find out what had happened. What he saw made his heart drop to his feet; he hadn't seen destruction like this since he had crawled out of his own grave after Castiel pulled him from the pit. The prophets house had been levelled, nothing stood more than two feet upright.

"Shit, what the hell happened here?" He heard Sam behind him but couldn't find the voice to answer.

Luckily one of the neighbours, an older woman in a flannel housecoat, was feeling chatty, "The fire crew think it was a gas explosion. The poor young man they pulled out of there is lucky to be alive."

Dean turned to her instantly, a spark of hope flickering somewhere in his chest, no way could a human have survived something like that. "Do you know what he looked like?"

The woman smiled softly, "Of course I do we've lived on the same street for years. Rather sickly looking young man, too much facial hair for my liking."

The flicker of hope faded but refused to die entirely, "Right, Chuck, of course." He knew he should be happy that the prophet was okay, but all he could feel was disappointment and resentment that it hadn't been Castiel. As if he didn't have enough guilt to carry already.

"Are you friends of his dear?" the neighbour persisted.

When Dean didn't respond straight away Sam picked up the slack, "Yes, we are. We were actually coming to visit with him for a couple of days. Do you know which hospital they took him to?

The woman frowned, "They haven't taken him anywhere yet, last I saw they were walking him to the ambulance over there."

Without a word Dean ducked under the cordon, ignoring the shout of the police officer a few meters away and jogged towards the ambulance. As he got closer he noticed that they were making Chuck comfortable where he was seated in the back a blanket wrapped around his shoulder, and it looked as though they were only moments from leaving. Before they could close the doors Dean jumped up into the back and grabbed his arm "Chuck." The prophet said nothing just stared ahead blankly. "Hey Chuck answer me damn it." He crouched before him, shaking him lightly.

"Sir the patient is in deep shock you can't be here." A paramedic told him from the door way.

Dean huffed impatiently and proceeded to ignore him entirely "Chuck what happened? Where's Cas?"

"Sir we have to leave, you can talk to him at the hospital." The paramedic tried again.

Dean's patience already hanging by a thread snapped. He grabbed the prophet roughly by the shoulders and shook him hard "Damn it Chuck where is he?"

It seemed to work, Chuck's eyes focused momentarily on Dean's, his voice monotone as he muttered two words before his gaze went blank again. "He's gone."

"Sir!" The paramedic's voice was insistent, as Dean's shoulders slumped and the spark, that had been barely there before died entirely. He climbed out of the back of the ambulance and made his way back to where Sam was arguing with a police officer to let him pass.

"Dean, what's going on? What happened here?" Sam asked frantically as his older brother ducked under the police tape and made his way back to the car. "Dean!" He called after him, jogging to catch up.

"Not now Sam." Dean sighed as he climbed into the car.

Climbing in opposite Sam turned to face him. "Dean, tell me what the hell happened."

"Damn it Sam I said not now." He all but growled. "Call Bobby, he'll need to know about Lucifer. Tell him we'll be there tomorrow." Calling Bobby was as good a way as any to distract Sam from his questioning. He knew his brother deserved an explanation but he couldn't, not yet, he didn't want to say the words out loud. '_Cas is dead, it's all my fault, Lucifer rose anyway, he died for nothing.'_

**Title:** The beginning of the End (1/?)  
**Author:** prettypsycho  
**Rating:** PG-13 this part (NC-17 over all)  
**Pairing/Characters:** Dean/Castiel eventually, wont take long I'm impatient for the man on angel loving.  
**Spoilers:** Season 4  
**Warnings:** Only swearing for this part  
**Word Count:** 1580  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own them, I wish I did. All these folk belong to Kripke and co.

**Note:** Follows on immediately from where 4.22 left off.

**Summary:** Lucifer is risen and the end is nigh. That's not a wacko with a sandwich board 'end is nigh', it's a literal. The angels aren't helping, The Devil wants them dead, and even Chucks prophecies are on the fritz. When all you have to rely on is each other, bonds become deeper than you ever imagined.

.#cutid1


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own them, I wish I did. All these folks belong to Kripke and Co.

Part 1

Notes: This chapter kicked my ass, sorry it took so long RL went haywire and my muse was the first casualty but she's back now.

The Beginning of the End. (2/?)

The bright golden light grew in intensity beyond the prophet's window and for the first time in his long existence Castiel felt the cold stab of genuine fear. It flowed through his being before wrapping its icy grip around his vessels heart in what was as close to physical pain he could ever remember feeling for more than the briefest of moments. The only thing preventing him from succumbing to this new emotion was the sound of Dean's voice in his mind. '_There's a right and a wrong here Cas._' He knew orders or no orders, that Dean was right, he had faith in that. What that meant for him he didn't know and he doubted that he would live long enough to figure it out. For now he would content himself to subdue the fear with another new emotion, defiance.

When Anna had told him that his orders were not coming from God, she had sown the seeds of doubt, and now he had never been more certain that she had been right. He would not allow humanity, his Fathers masterpiece, to become collateral damage to the whims of angels and demons. He had told Dean that he would hold them off and that is what he intended to do. He would give Dean the time he needed to stop the seal breaking, and if the cost was his life then that was just the way it had to be.

He knew that he would be capable of hiding Dean's whereabouts in his own mind. Since he began his dealings with Dean Winchester the ability to keep certain things from the rest of the host had become a necessity, even if he hadn't always been completely successful, his time in what Dean had termed 'bible camp' had proven that but this time he would not fail. Chuck however was only human and it would be all too easy for the archangel to reap whatever information they wished from the open mind of the prophet. Castiel knew that it was an abuse of his power but like so many other decisions he had been forced to make recently, it was unfortunate but necessary. Turning to the frightened prophet beside him, Castiel apologized softly for what he was about to do, before touching two fingers to the man's head sending him into a deep sleep whilst removing the memory of where Dean had gone. He could only hope that the Archangel wasn't already in possession of that information and that with the prophet unconscious he would be more concerned with punishing Castiel for daring to interfere with a prophecy than with preventing Deans continued interference from coming to pass.

A resonant and commanding voice echoed through the room causing the windows to blow out and the walls to shake, "You know better than this Castiel, was heavens last warning to you not enough?"

The light of the archangel compressed and took form and for the first time Castiel looked upon the visage of his brother, "Jophiel." He greeted dipping his head slightly in respect to the higher angel. "The prophet is unharmed; there is no reason for you to be here."

Jophiel shook his head lightly in what on a human would have appeared to be regret, "The prophet is not the issue here Castiel and you know it. The prophecy must be protected. It is God's will."

At the archangels last words anger raged through Castiel's body along with a desperation to make Jophiel see the truth. "No it is not!" His voice was low and determined. "God would not command this Jophiel and you know it."

"I know no such thing." The archangel spat bitterly, "It is not my place to question orders, nor is it yours. Such arrogance is unbecoming of you brother."

Castiel drew a deep breath, stung by the accusation and exhaled slowly before speaking, some of the anger and defiance he felt dissipating, "It is not arrogance to speak the truth."

"His word is the truth Castiel. To question it is blasphemy. To believe you know better than all the host of heaven is pride. Just how many sins are you willing to commit for the misplaced affection you have for your charge?" Jophiel walked towards him slowly and placed a hand on his shoulder, meeting Castiel's eyes with a pleading gaze, "Come back to us brother, it is not yet too late to put right your mistake."

Castiel shook his head, "I cannot do that Jophiel. I must do what is right."

The archangel spoke patiently, "Your charge's desire for something to be right does not make it so. Tell me where they are brother, the demon Lillith hid their location well, but you can help us. The humans will not be harmed, and once the chosen fulfils his destiny he will be at peace. Is that not what you wish for him brother? For there to be an end to all of his insecurity, all of his guilt and pain?"

"Yes," Castiel replied, "but it is not what he wants' for himself, not this way, and I will not force it upon him."

Jophiel lowered his hand and took three steps back regarding Castiel solemnly, "Then you choose Dean Winchester over the will of God?"

"No," Castiel replied resolutely "I choose Dean over the will of my misguided brothers."

"You know the price of disobedience, what you force me to do." It was half statement half question and Castiel nodded in response. Jophiel's eyes met his, "That is unfortunate, we cannot afford for our number to be diminished any more but if this is your choice."

Castiel met his gaze defiantly, "It is."

"Then I am sorry brother. I would prefer to do this quickly and painlessly but we need to know where Dean Winchester is, and before the end, you will tell me."

Before Castiel could respond his body was lifted from the ground arms outstretched in a crass imitation of the Son's sacrifice. Pain flooded through the veins of his vessel, burning white hot into the grace contained within. Instinctively his head snapped back and a savage cry was torn from his being as the invisible flames overwhelmed him. As suddenly as it had come the sensation ebbed to a more bearable ache and he found himself able to breath again, His head fell forward and he looked down upon Jophiel from his position suspended in the air. "You can stop this Castiel; just tell me where they are."

Taking a ragged breath Castiel tried to speak but found his throat to be blocked. He felt the involuntary spasms of his vessels chest as the alien sensation of coughing racked the body spraying blood on the rug beneath him, leaving the taste of copper in his mouth, the warm wetness of if it coating his bottom lip and running in a fine rivulet from one corner of his mouth. Spitting what remained in his mouth onto the ground he replied raggedly, "No, I can't do that, I wont."

"Oh but you will... eventually." Was the archangel's response, a second before Castiel's world went white with agony once more.

This time the scream ripped from his throat was of such force that his true voice burst through with it. The walls of the house cracked as the building rumbled. Castiel how ever didn't notice any of this until the pain subsided once more and he found himself incapable of moving, the sore ache in his vessels body permeating all the way through to his grace which was wounded in ways that no mortal eye could ever see, it's power diminished so badly by Jophiel's onslaught that he couldn't even make use of the temporary respite afforded to him whilst questioned to even begin to heal himself.

His head rolled forward of its own volition and he opened his eyes. Through his swimming vision he could see that his top half was now unclothed, the symbol cut into his chest, binding him to his vessel bled thin red rivers down the plane of his stomach where the blood soaked into the waistband of his trousers. He was attempting to gather the strength to speak, to plead with Jophiel to just kill him when he felt it. A profound and dark shift in the fabric of the world, Lucifer was free.

Jophiel felt it too, his concentration slipping from the task at hand long enough for Castiel to drop heavily to the floor, the ceiling and room above him collapsing down on top of him, burying the vessel beneath the debris. He knew that he didn't have long to act. Jophiel would not be distracted for long. He had to get to Dean but in his current state he would only be a burden to the hunter. If he managed to escape Lucifer there was one place that he was sure to go, gathering what little strength he had he willed himself to Singers Salvage yard.

It was raining when he landing hard on the muddy ground before Bobby Singer's house. His whole body was racked with pain and he noticed for the first time that a part of the debris from the prophet's house had stabbed through his thigh. He reached for the large piece of wood with shaking hands and took a deep breath before trying to pull it out. The pain was excruciating and once more he cried out into the night, before collapsing onto the ground. What little strength had remained in his grace had been used to bring himself here, it would replenish itself eventually but until then he was helpless, he couldn't even move to wipe the rain water from his eyes as he heard a gruff voice exclaim "What the hell?"

Blearily he made out the form of Bobby Singer crouched above him, and at that moment he felt safe. "Dean?" Castiel croaked unable to elaborate and hoping that the hunter would understand.

He felt Bobby's hands on his body checking over his wound's as he replied, "He's okay considering. They'll be here tomorrow." Knowing that Dean was safe and that he would be seeing him soon Castiel allowed the darkness creeping into his vision to consume his consciousness. The last thing he heard was Bobby's voice remarking "Shit. Don't you dare die on me you celestial son of a bitch." Before the world around him faded to black.


End file.
